


Under Lock and Key

by La_Madrugada



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Makeup Sex, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Madrugada/pseuds/La_Madrugada
Summary: Ethically ambiguous spellwork and makeup sex.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 144





	Under Lock and Key

* * *

“HARRY JAMES POTTER! You get down here this instant or I will make a horcrux out of you myself so help me.” Hermione steadied herself against the banister of Grimmauld, still shaky from apparating. And rage. 

Harry emerged from the dining room, backlit by the low gaslights. His face was carefully neutral. “What’s wrong, Hermione?” he asked, his calm tone utterly maddening. 

“Don’t you bloody ask me what’s wrong, you arrogant arsehole. Where the hell do you get off casting a chastity spell on me? Do you want to know how I found out?”

Hermione had no doubt that the answer was obvious, standing there as she was in an overlarge shirt and her skirt on backwards. Harry stiffened as he looked her over. 

“Ah,” he said. 

“Ah?  _ Ah? _ Do you know how particularly humiliating it is - not to mention utterly bizarre - for the man you’re planning on shagging to look up and ask why the words ‘Property of H. J. Potter’ seems to be tattooed across your labia? Or when you find out there’s some sort of magical barrier keeping his cock from penetrating?”

“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” he said flippantly, and Hermione felt at that moment that she would be eminently capable of wandless  _ avada _ .

“You are the most infuriating man I have ever met, and that includes a teenaged Ronald Weasley. How dare you?”

“Me? You’re the one off hooking up with other men!” Harry shot off, beginning the show the first stirrings of temper.

Hermione gaped. “What business is it of yours? We broke up weeks ago!”

“Is that what you think?” he asked flatly, stepping closer, and into the light of the foyer. The shadows made slices of his cheekbones; his brows were jagged lines across his thin face. With his bright green eyes, he looked for all the world like some demon princeling, otherworldly and eerie and sharp. 

Hermione felt her body betray her, desire shooting through her despite her fury. She swallowed, and took a small step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, focusing on her irritation. “We had a horrific row, accidentally lit a few things on fire, and then you left to go stay at Ron’s. That’s the end of a fucking relationship right there, Potter.”

Harry crowded her, forcing her to keep stepping back until her back hit the door. She kept her chin up, locking eyes even as he loomed over her. 

“Did you really think,” he began, in a deceptively light tone, “for even a single moment, that I would ever let you go?”

For a moment, she thought she must have heard wrong. It was so hard to think when he was so close, his warmth seeping into her skin. For for seemed like an eternity, he held himself unnaturally still, and then the dam broke loose. He grabbed her wrists forcefully and pinned them above her head, and brought his lips to within an inch of hers. 

She couldn’t help it - on instinct she arched up, wanting desperately to feel his mouth on hers. He closed the gap with alacrity, much to her relief, and proceeded to kiss her savagely. His tongue plundered her mouth as one hand gripped her hip, and then skated up to fondle her breast. 

He wrenched himself back, breathing hard, face a mask of controlled intensity. “Let me spell this out for you. I don’t care how many fights we have. I don’t care what we say to each other, and I don’t give a damn if we burn Grimmauld to the ground. You. Are.  _ Mine _ .”

“But-,” she protested, only to be cut off. 

“We have plenty to talk about. And I’ve got plenty to apologize for. But first I need to remind you who you belong to.” He kissed her fiercely again, this time tangling his fingers in her wild curls. In a split second he ducked under, tossing her over his shoulder and marching towards the nearest bedroom. He palmed her arse, delving under her knickers to trace her slit, chuckling when he found it wet. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. How did you hold out this long? You must be aching for it.” He laid her down none too gently, grinned, and then promptly vanished her clothes. She lay naked before him, spread-eagled and breathless, feeling overcome by the riot of emotions she had cycled through. 

“Harry, please,” she whimpered.

He ignored her plea, instead exploring her body with long, leisurely strokes, making her arch with the sensation. “I swear you get more gorgeous every time I look at you.”

She moaned when he cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she bit her lip. 

“I can’t wait to cum on your pretty tits,” he said, leaning to press his lips to her jaw, to her neck, to her shoulder. He unzipped his trousers, pulling out his hard, heavy cock, letting it spring up to brush his abdomen. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed, lifting up one leg so that it rested against his torso, opening her to his hungry gaze. 

He dragged the head of his cock along her slit, teasing her mercilessly. “I cast that spell the first time I was ever inside you, Hermione,” he said, pushing gently past her entrance, letting her adjust to his thickness. “It’s an old pureblood spell, found it in the Black collection, of course. Couldn’t get it out of my head, not once I’d finally gotten you.”

He thrust into her, sheathing himself inside her completely, savoring the sensation before turning to nip at the inside of her thigh. “It’s called ‘the lock and key’, apparently. Shall I explain what that means?” He pulled out slowly, and then hilted himself again, rocking against her and making her writhe. He began to pick up speed, slamming into her repeatedly and making the mattress shake. “God, I love watching your tits bounce.”

“Harry, Harry, I’m so close,” she begged, reaching for his hands and drawing his fingers into her mouth, sucking desperately. 

“It means that mine is the only cock allowed in your perfect little cunt.” He pistoned in and out of her, rougher and rougher and until his movements became more erratic. “And only yours. I’ll only ever fit inside you, sweetheart.”

She keened as he ratcheted up the intensity of his thrusts; his hands seemed to be everywhere, and his words wrapped themselves around her. She gave a little cry as stars burst behind her eyes, fading to black as he wrung himself out above her, promising her everything, body and soul. 

They could settle their scores in the morning. He was hers.

* * *


End file.
